After Emmeryn
by Gayro Zayppeli
Summary: After the death of his sister, Chrom deals with the loss and learns how to cope. With him is Olivia, a dancer he met right after. Something sparks and now Chrom must slowly learn how to be the leader everyone looks up to.
1. Chapter 1

**_Chapter 1_**

The sound of the rain was loud outside. The sky had grown gray in just a matter of minutes. Even though the rain was thundering, the sound of the ongoing shower was drowned out by the hooves of the horses galloping across the unfamiliar land they were in. In the midst of the crowded carriage sat the prince, his head lowered. The gaze of the blue eyes seemed to focus on the floor covered in mud and grime from their escape. Just hours before, they were fighting to protect the life of the one most important to them and the symbol of what they all treasured so much.

But she was gone.

Chrom's mind was running across the same scene over and over again. The sky was blue, but it wasn't comforting. If anything, it made the weight of his failure worse. They had fought through harsh deserts, traveled through cruel sands and took the lives of those that had wronged them. Risks were taken, lives were lost. Yet, they were for naught. Looking at the one whom he treasured most go away destroyed the very essence of his soul. Her body lay lifeless in front of him, lacking the radiance she had. The smile on her face was gone and instead replaced by a mess of blonde strings. He failed. He failed her, his sister, and his kingdom.

Just days before she was smiling. Just days before he was having dinner with her without a care in the world. Her reassuring presence would never grace him again. He wanted tears to come out, he wanted to curl up and cry but the only feeling that crept up was the numbness. It was odd. Even though fright took his mind and anger clouded his thoughts, all he could do was sit there wallowing in regret.

As if to mock him even in his mourning, the face of the one who did it flashed in front of his eyes. The sly smirk on his face turned into a hysterical laugh. Was he satisfied? How could one be so satisfied upon taking the life of another? How? His palms scrunched into a first, curling the glove he wore on one of them. Right then, there was only one thing in the world he wanted: to see the same face contort in horror, to speak words that begged for mercy, to see the eyes slowly lose their light…

"Chrom! CHROM!"

The prince's head moved upwards with a jerk. As he turned to the side, Chrom realized how wet his body was. Rain crashed upon the cloth that gave them shelter from its cold icy grip, even if the wind wasn't completely prevented from spreading the chill. It was...comforting. But he didn't want to be comforted. Chrom wanted to soak in the sea of anger, to let it fester and seeing the concerned look of his friend's face was the last thing he wanted. A slight hint of pink was the only thing that stood out among the gray of the clouds though the gust and constant bucking of their carriage kept moving it out of sight.

"We've almost reached Ferox." Robin's voice was a whisper. He looked as worn as Chrom himself did, but even in this dire time, his concern was of others. Perhaps that was natural; Emm meant little to a stranger after all. The prince said nothing and returned to where he once was. But this time, he couldn't get back to even that sight. It was just Gangrel.

The look of those around him didn't help. The urge to yell kept overtaking his thoughts. It was an eternity in which he struggled to not lose his temper before the carriage seemed to stop. Even the sky in Regna Ferox seemed to be mourning the loss, even if word had yet to spread. Dull grays painted the sky in its colorless presence. Chrom alighted the carriage without delay. The white cape on his back flew with every step of his boots. Even in the distance he had managed to cross, he could her the bawling of his sister. With a sore throat he kept going, knowing his actions were wrong.

His steps echoed as he made his way through the ornate halls of the castle. The warm and welcoming halls had become daunting. Once small, it now seemed towering and the paths never ending – almost as if he was no longer welcome. The looks of the castle staff suffocated him; their wide eyes and stunned expressions were prying. How could he tell them about his failure? So many of their comrades – families and friends even – spent and for what? As soon as he reached the room, the door slammed behind him – though not locked.

Night couldn't come nor pass sooner. Chrom stayed by his bed, gripping the blanket tight. Images of the same scene played and replayed again and again and again in his mind. The smile he had turned to for comfort and guidance now haunted him. Rain crashed against the windows, but none fell from Chrom's eyes. Not even the moon made its appearance, as if to mock their plight. A knock on the door made him turn though the sight of his sister, Sumia and Robin did nothing to help him. The white haired man, his fastest friend even in this short time the two had known each other, moved towards him but a hand from the prince stopped his advance.

"Chrom..." Robin started hesitantly. "I'm sorry. If my plan had worked maybe..."

Chrom realized his tongue wouldn't listen to his mind. In his vision, he saw Lissa gripping the arm of the pegasus knight tight in her need for support. It should've been him but there was little he could do – or wanted to. The company left upon the prince's dismissal and the door shut after their departure, leaving Chrom with what he wanted: his own sadness and regret. All through the night, the clouds swirled and the storm outside only grew more intense. The blue eyes saw the clouds depart, and the sweet rays of dawn spread from the gentle sun of the early morn.

As much as he would rather sit there, standing up was his duty. The spot where he sat was covered with mud and a trail of it marked both his steps and the ones his friends took just hours before. The halls seemed calmer though the silence was suffocating; an air of mourning took over the confusion from last night. How would he ever address the people? When he entered the meeting room, guided there by the maids and soldiers who he came across his path, the Khan of Regna Ferox and the three from last night stood there waiting. The rest of his companions littered the room, comforting each other the best they could though it all seemed to be wasted.

"Took you long enough to get your ass out of that funk." Flavia stated, her tongue as sharp as her sword. Seeing her take charge made Chrom realize that is what separated her from him. Flavia was a true leader and took charge when he couldn't – though how could she feel what he did? With silence and hesitance, he approached the Shepherds. Sniffles left his sister along with vocal expressions of regret. It was difficult to watch the sight.

"It was all my fault she...she..." The prince was struggling to find the words to say what he wanted to but it seemed he didn't need to either. Robin gripped his shoulders tight and made Chrom look at him.

"No it's not! It's both our faults! Had...had I succeeded in my plans she wouldn't have died!" Remaining silent was all the Ylissean prince could do. "I was powerless too...completely alone without even a single memory of my past, but you showed me I had a place to call home as well!"

With a smile on his face, Robin looked at the room full of the Shepherds. Their noisy agreement to his words made Chrom smile a tiny bit though it faded soon after. "But...what if I can't?"

"You've failed once and you can fail again, but we'll all be there to help you up." Still smiling, Robin answered his query. At that, Chrom felt some ounce of hope resurface in the depths of his heart. It was...nice. He didn't want to feel this way still but it was hard to resist such smiles and cheer. In the midst, his eyes drifted off to the girl standing in front of the crowd.

Her pinkish hair was familiar; he'd seen it flowing wildly with the gale yesterday. In the rush, he hadn't taken the chance to ask her name but the way she took charge to save their lives and the power he felt exuding from the stern words stuck with him. It was only upon seeing her did he consciously think about them. In a way, he'd owed her so much. Looking at her now however was off putting; he hadn't ever imagined to see her so meek! Her smaller frame seemed to curl slightly as if to waste no time in protecting her if someone approached; yet even in this state, she had a radiance that made it impossible to look away. Seeing this made Chrom smile a bit wider; rarely did he get a chance to meet someone whose mere presence made him feel such comfort.

Stepping forward and snapping away from the sight after a struggle, Chrom took to the center right beside Flavia. Everyone seemed quiet, ready to hear what he had to say. While he had lead the Shepherds many times before, this felt different. Even though issuing commands and speaking in front of crowds was a part of his duty, this felt as if he were doing it for the first time.

"I apologize for my behavior earlier but I swear to never falter again. Shepherds, we've a duty to accomplish. The Mad King must be stopped lest we lose more to his war!"

Thoughts of doubt soon arose; perhaps it was a bit on the shorter side. As the last words left him, the whole room resounded once again with the voices of those he trusted most. The worry in his heart subsided for now and across his face was etched a smile as if he'd never smiled before. After more planning and word from Feroxi scouts regarding the situation in Plegia, Chrom was free to go. However, as his hands moved for the handle to the doors, Basilio stopped him with a strong grip. He was well built and scars from battles past marked his journey to reach such strength – something he was all too proud to show off.

"Where are ya goin'?" he'd spout, his voice was as one would expect: deep, loud and his language coarse. "This here's Olivia!" This time his arm gripped her shoulders. It was hard to believe her bones weren't broken if he was using even a fraction of his strength! A small yelp left her; she still looked so meek.

"You're lookin' at the best dancer in all of Regna Ferox! Hell, even all of the kingdoms! She's a treasure worth more than gems! So you better take care of her well Commander, or else you'll have to answer to me!" A laugh as loud as several horses galloping right in front of him left Chrom's ears deaf though he couldn't help but notice a change in vocabulary.

"Commander?" The prince asked, stunned. "I thought I was 'boy'?"

"Heh. You've earned that well enough I'd say. Now let Flavia and I prepare our soldiers and we can head to Plegia and show those little scorpions how we crack skulls!" With that Basilio gave a smirk showing his teeth off to the pair before leaving Chrom and Olivia alone. With him gone it seemed her gaze was to the floor away from his.

"I thank you for coming to save us. It must've been hard for someone such as you."Chrom said with the same smile still on his face. Upon a closer look, Basilio was right. She was striking. Her skin seemed flawless and the way she seemed to glow separated her from everything around her, as if she was the only one worth looking at ; even the blush on her cheeks stood out from even her body. But her answer turned away from his expectations.

"U-um, y-yes erm...i-it w-wasn't my idea. T-the K-khan s-said to do it..." she spoke. Her voice was soft, serene but a bit troubled. Was he really exuding such an aura of terror that she couldn't speak? Worried but confident, still riding high from the surge of confidence earlier, Chrom decided to press on. Perhaps it was just a simple misunderstanding.

"Ah...well, it was still you in the carriage and you who rallied everyone, so I suppose you still deserve some praise." But at this, both of her eyes seemed to move away even more. Olivia struggled to speak, muttering something under her breath. As the prince's lips moved again, his words were interrupted by her own.

"I-I'm s-sorry!" She squeaked immediately and ran through the doors, leaving Chrom by himself. A hand from him moved to push some strands of dark blue to the side. She definitely had a charm to her, the prince thought with a smile on his face. Maybe he just needed to let her adjust to his presence.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter 2**_

Shining bright over the horizon, the sun had finally torn away the gray clouds that shrouded the sky. However, gloom still reigned sternly(supreme). Chrom watched the battalions outside practicing; their faces were home to a myriad of emotions as they prepared for the ordeal that lay ahead, knowing that the coming battle would be their final hurdle, the one to settle things once and for all.

Even though his friends tried their best to support him, the prince still couldn't let those lingering regrets go. Animosity held firm in his heart, both against Gangrel and against his friends. When the images once again flashed across his mind, he gripped the windowsill he leaned on for support. Was he turning into the very thing he hated? If he did turn, it would for sure be against his sister's wishes; nay, it'd be the opposite of what she wanted.

"Chrom?" A familiar voice rang out from the open doorway across the room.

"Brother..." Lissa approached with hesitance – alone. Throughout the last few days, the two had hardly met. Chrom had been busy preparing for Emmeryn's rescue and then...it happened; it was little surprise she would be afraid and the only comfort she had came from Sumia, Robin, and Maribelle. But even then, they could hardly take the place of kin. "Do you hate me?"

The words left him stunned.

"No! I –" His lips couldn't move to finish what he wanted before his sister ran up to him, gripping him by the arms.

"Then why don't you speak to me!?" Her voice boomed; for the first time in days, Chrom focused on her face; her cheeks flared red and her eyes reddened with them; they puffed out, still wet from crying.

He was truly foolish.

"I just... want us to be together again..."

With those words, Lissa would clench him tight. Yesterday, she seemed so strong when surrounded by her companions but now tears soaked the crumpled cloth lining his chest that muffled her crying. He couldn't speak; the only thing he could do was stare at the messy blonde hair as the results of his actions dawned on him. His own arms moved on their own to wrap around her out of obligation and out of a will to repent, providing the warmth she had long deserved. They did share the same blood; to think she would be able to steel herself when he couldn't…

Hours passed without a sound. Brother and sister lay in each others' grasp, seeking the comfort of the one who had raised them to be the people they were. The sounds of blade clashing against blade permeated throughout, their presence the only sign of the ongoing chaos outside. Chrom's lips curled into a smile as he pulled away to look at Lissa. Perhaps words did hold little meaning, after all.

"Thank you, Lissa, for being there. I've been a terrible brother and leader, but... I promise to be better, just like yesterday."

All Lissa could do was smile and muster just one word: "Dummy..." With that, the exhaustion of sitting through everything yesterday seemed to catch up to her. The blue irises disappeared behind her skin and her breath slowed to gentle rise and falls. Picking her up, Chrom lay her on the bed reserved for him – one that lay unused.

Knowing what exactly he now had to do, his boots guided him outside. As gloomy as the weather seemed from inside his room, it was the exact opposite. Life seemed to spread all around. Tiny bodies moved from one end to another, birds fluttered to gather food for their young and the chattering of people echoed from all directions. While he lay in his room, everything decided to do what Emmeryn wanted: to move forward towards peace.

Letting out a groan of frustration, Chrom ran towards the woods surrounding the castle. Shades of fall were everywhere. Red and orange took the place of the lush green that painted Ferox before, and the path was littered with fallen leaves which crumpled upon each step. Truly, life seemed to be seeping away, yet not easily. It was calming to simply be away from everyone, even if he treasured them more than his own life.

His pace slowed to a steady trot upon reaching deeper into the woods. Everything looked the exact same everywhere, and the silence made the minute calls of the wild all the more louder. Only the sound of a running stream stood out; thinking it would be a good place to practice, and making sure he knew where he was, Chrom made his way towards the source of the noise.

Often during days warmer, swinging his sword was all that he needed to calm himself. Others called him talented, but it was simply the result of repeated practice and to rid himself of the thoughts his father had left behind. Bit by bit, his arms grew used to the weight of a blade, one he intended to use to protect Emmeryn; being the eldest, it was she who often bore the heaviest burdens. If only he was better, the weight of the throne could be shared!

Coming back to reality, he expected to see the sight of clear water and fish swimming below the surface; instead, the same pink strings that colored the grays of the storm yesterday flashed before him. As if under a trance, he watched as the woman twirled; her hair followed. A tornado of pink soon surrounded her, coming to a still as she knelt. Only seeing a part of it, Chrom was not ready to pass judgement, yet the slow movements and the look of longing on her face seemed to reflect his own feelings.

Was she mourning? As Olivia arose, perhaps to start again, her eyes opened. In a split second, Chrom was forced to cover his ears – a shriek had deafened them. Like their previous encounter, the dancer was already half curled, and her eyes wandered away from his frame.

"Your dancing was... beautiful." Chrom would say regardless of the situation. He felt he had to say something or else he would have to carry another regret with him – he certainly already had enough on his shoulders. For once, Basilio was not exaggerating; her dancing was not of this world. To touch him so easily without even a complete performance, it was divine. But perhaps he'd keep these thoughts to himself. "Erm... were you... mourning?"

Olivia's eyes darted even further away – if it was possible for them to do so. It seemed as if simply thinking about how she would reply was straining.

"Y-yes... t-the exalt... she did m-me a huge favor once..." Was she...shaking?

"I see... that does sound like my sister.," The prince would reply. Upon the silence following his words, the air around them got heavy. This was the first time Chrom had really felt the awkwardness around them. It was... an experience. With nothing coming from either of them, the prince decided it was his duty to break the ice.

"Erm...why did you come here? Isn't it far away?" asked Chrom as he mimicked Olivia; his eyes moved away from her, though he managed to glance every now and again – it was simply difficult to look away from her radiance. "I'm sure everyone would love to see you dance!"

It seemed, however, as if that had made things worse. Olivia bit her lip and curled up even more! From the prince an awkward head scratch followed; the situation seemed impossible to salvage. His gloved fingers twiddled as he thought of something, anything, to say. All that it led to, however, was him overthinking everything.

Surprisingly, the one to break the silence was not Chrom, but rather the dancer herself. "I..." she started, gulping slightly upon failing to say anything more. Her eyes, for the first time, moved towards his, though it was hesitant to say the least. "T-thank you, b-but... I..." Before she could even finish, Olivia had turned tail and run away. The last sight of her he witnessed was the pink fluttering behind amongst the orange forest; it shrunk until she was out of sight.

Frustrated once more, he collapsed to the floor of dead shrubbery underneath and let out a loud groan of discontent. How could he not manage a conversation with the person who saved him? Gods! This was such an odd situation for him; all throughout his life, he'd been able to strike up a conversation with everyone he'd met,even the ones who had been hard-pressed to let anything slip. But Olivia? How was she so different?

Chrom jumped to his feet and picked a random tree from the ones around him. Freeing the Falchion from its sheath, blows landed one by one on the bark. As brown specks fell off, the prince reminisced about days long past: when he first held the Falchion for the first time. The blade wielded by exalts before him and even the Hero King himself carried an immense burden – one he had yet to bear till now.

Growing up with stories of how noble they were, the last exalt had made sure Chrom's faith was shaken. Focused on his crusade with Plegia, he paid little attention to his children. Chrom, Emmeryn, and Lissa grew up under the watchful eyes of their caretakers,whilst the war itself thinned Ylisse's resources. When he passed, they had been left with nearly empty coffers and people rightfully angry at the price paid for his drive. Not even able to recollect memories of their mother, Chrom witnessed his sister suffer for actions she had no part nor faith in.

His anger led to a more powerful thrust and the Falchion pierced through the tree, twisting it. After all she had sacrificed, Emmeryn's fate was a sad one. Whilst he and Lissa had been too young to share the right to rule, what else had she hidden from him? Had she always harbored feelings of regret? As strike after strike were sent, all such thoughts seemed to go away, leaving just the sight in front of him.

By the time he returned to reality, the tree before him lay half cut and the sun up above burning bright still. Such thoughts could wait; his friends and the future, were more important. The sword was sheathed and Chrom ran back to their base. His return was much shorter than his outgoing; there was a new spring to his step.

When he returned, he was greeted with the sight of Flavia and Basilio talking. Slowing down, Chrom wiped the sweat off his face and moved towards them. Upon seeing his state, Flavia gave her usual smile – warm but stern. "So the prince has returned! And better I'd say. The troops are ready. We move before sunset."

Straight and to the point as always, she left to attend a soldier calling for her from the distance. Several caravans lay facing the same direction and stables of horses were being led to the location as well. The chattering that once reigned was now replaced by the stomping of boots and shouts of commands. Another battle awaited them; but before he could think of much else, a strong grip took his attention away.

"The Mad King's troops are on the move. A lot of 'em are already leavin'. With this battle, he won't make it out alive but we'll need you to handle takin' him down." Basilio spoke with confidence. Clearly, he had a lot of faith in both the Shepherds and Chrom himself – along with his own muscles of course. "Hah! My blood hasn't been pumpin' this much in years! It's time for great Basilio to let loose!" And yet another coarse laugh followed his gloating.

While Chrom's revenge would soon be complete, it felt hollow; even if Gangrel died, there was still Ylisse to take care of. At the thought of ruling Ylisse, something suddenly came to his mind, and Chrom bolted away. Finding himself in the pegasi stables, he handed an envelope to one of the riders. "And please, take care when carrying it. It's irreplaceable."

With one more deed left, Chrom would rush back to his room to find Lissa still sleeping. The brother sat beside his sister, taking into his arms what was given to him: the responsibility to care for what Emmeryn cared for the most. For the first time in a long time, Chrom ran his fingers through Lissa's hair. He hadn't done the act since she was a child.

Yes, he knew what he had to now. Smiling, he continued, taking his time – time he should've given her long before this day. As the blonde waves parted, his thoughts kept wandering to the dancer and her dance. The moment of her kneeling stood out; he was sure it had some meaning. Was it regret? Sadness? Or was it up to him to decide? The sun grew brighter and as Lissa's eyes opened, a smile of comfort spread on her lips.

The time to leave would soon arrive.

* * *

Update:

21/8/19 - Turns out some mistakes were made. Corrections suggested from Google docs slipped in by accident and I hadn't noticed till now. The corrections are minor and nothing game changing. Next chapter to be uploaded soon!


	3. Chapter 2x

_**Chapter 2.5**_

A sweat drop fell on the marble floor as the final step of the dance ended. The dancer stopped, heaving quite a bit . Her performance was quite a big one, one that she'd been practicing for the last month. However, her rehearsals were never this exhausting; this time, she gave it her all. As one heavy breath after another left Olivia, her thoughts would wander over to the encounter earlier today. Digits pulled her pinkish strands away from her face while the sight of dark blue enveloped her mind.

Nobles were...frightening. She never did have any good experiences with them. Their eyes were always prying – even though being the star of the stage was always her dream. But he seemed different, 'earnest' was perhaps the right word to describe him. That, or 'odd'. Yet, her instinct made her reject all of his advances, no matter how hard he tried. Yes, the dance by the riverside was her own way of respecting all that Exalt Emmeryn had done for the continent, but her lips and tongue wouldn't let her say one simple word. The more Olivia drowned in her thoughts, the more her body reflexively moved.

The scarf she carried followed her every minute step, every large spin, and every pirouette. Once the performance was done, applause erupted from the empty room. Praise upon praise were showered over her performance, their voices her own. The only one that stood out was but that of the prince's. His eyes seemed to follow hers throughout her performance, and every move was met with a wide smile. Even though it was but a lass' dream, it felt wonderful to just imagine all of it.

"Wonderful, my dear! Absolutely marvelous!" An unknown voice – formal, quiet yet assertive – resounded from the empty halls. Even if it were a whisper, the room would've made it into a shout in the wild. Olivia's eyes darted to the direction, trailing across the gray halls of the ballroom. Her heart pounding, the eyes met that of a regally dressed woman. The noblewoman's hands gripped the pink umbrella she carried, spreading wrinkles along the silken cloth between her palms. "It is quite a shame you don't have an audience...although your own praises seem to be enough for a rehearsal, yes?"

Straight and to the point she was! Olivia was stunned. "I can't dance! I'm awful at i-" But the noble stopped her mid sentence with two quick successive 'tuts' and the sound of the tip of her umbrella tapping against the floor.

"Hush. You can save the false modesty for later. But I have to ask, I believe your name is Olivia, why you seem to be such a fantastic performer alone, and in battle, but shudder at the mere sight of someone that isn't yourself." The noble spoke, her voice calm but the words and how they were delivered gave away either talent at manipulation or years and years of oral etiquette. Before Olivia could even speak, she seemed to take charge yet again. "I do not know your reason, but your talent is astounding. It'd be a shame if your audience forever remained empty rooms and your own vocal performance. Now...pray tell exactly why that is."

How would she answer? Even Olivia herself wasn't completely sure why. But an attempt needed to be made; the blonde woman had made her wait clear. "In battle, I focus on just dancing so everything melts away...b-but on stage I can't! T-the whole point of performing is to attract people..." Once she finished, the noble seemed to think to herself – her eyes closed as if focusing entirely on the topic at hand. The dancer realized she didn't even know her name; her stay at the Shepherds was only about a day! Not that much even.

However, she could only think before the blue eyes were visible yet again. "I see. Then don't you think it's time you raised your confidence?" The question was asked, though it seemed more like a demand. "And I know just the way!" As the lips parted to speak further, she was interrupted.

"But!" Olivia squeaked, it echoed throughout the room and lingered far too long. Once it settled, the silence growing more awkward in the meantime with the expecting stare waiting to continue, the dancer cleared her throat. "I...I'm s-sorry but I don't even know your name! Are you with the Shepherds?"

A shrill laugh punctuated the awkwardness. "I am Maribelle. I thought Chrom would have introduced us to you; it was foolish of me to assume such things." A deep breath. "Now, I believe that is satisfying enough?"

What left Olivia was a small nod, happy she at least had a name for the person she was talking to. "Yes...perhaps I could try." Those words were in the company of a wavering gaze, putting her lie out in the open. Though Maribelle seemed not to care, confident in her techniques it seemed. Nodding in return, the dancer followed the noble as her steps echoed throughout the empty hall once last time.

In a moment, the two were sitting across with a handkerchief in Olivia's hands. Maribelle had given it to her upon seeing her state the moment she sat down. The palms guided the cloth across her skin, soaking in sweat, as Maribelle's eyes kept the stare. The noble's however was stirring a cup of tea, as a slow gentle breeze blew across the open meadows of Regna Ferox. It was a sight Olivia needed after an intense session of practice. Minutes passed in silence between the two with the noises of supplies being moved, orders, and the ho hum attitude of the Feroxi soldiers being the only source, as loud and feral as they might have been.

The smell of tea exuded from the cup as Maribelle's focus shifted to the other one after the first one was gently pushed towards Olivia– which the dancer took. A sip wasn't taken and wouldn't be until Maribelle had finished. "Regarding your confidence, I have a plan. Recently, a new technique for boosting one's confidence was discovered – and it works on women."

Olivia simply stared into her cup as steam arose from the hot drink that lay inside. The tone and the way she spoke only scared the timid dancer already out of her element. "W-what is it?" The pinkette asked as one of her fingers nervously pushed away a strand covering her face.

Lips turned into a wry smile, oddly satisfied, on Maribelle's face once she sniffed the willingness from Olivia's end. "Simply put, to rid you of your fears, you will have to talk to nobles."

"NO!" Another immediate retort. The already rosy cheeks turned into a deeper shade hearing such a preposterous idea. Olivia already had problems engaging with nobles, and here she was supposed to start a conversation with one of them? Absurd! No, she couldn't possibly do anything like that. Her intense stare at Maribelle, body poised to curl up any moment, said what she needed to.

"Don't give me such a look." The noblewoman huffed. "I assure you, it's all well researched. It rids one's fear instantly, by drowning oneself in it. I believe it's called 'Shock Therapy'. And, as I've said, it works on women." Those spoken words made her lips curl into a smirk– well, a wider one. And her closed eyes only oozed confidence, opening once finished.

Unable to say anything, Olivia simply stayed quiet. Her anxiety was desperately drowned under sips of steaming tea, hotter than any cup she'd ever had over. The gaze still stayed, as if watching every minute movement would prevent Maribelle from acting. Still, she had to admit even in her wary state, the tea was marvelous. The scent was alluring and drink's heat did little to hide the taste. As if magic, comfort settled in her mind.

"Lady Maribelle...this tea is wonderful!" The compliment left Olivia and felt more genuine than any she had ever given. It seemed to do little to the noblewoman however; she simply brushed it aside. She was so confident that it was simply a sight to behold. How could one such as her, with the weight of not only nobility and responsibility, be so at ease? Especially near someone of Olivia's status, a commoner? Perhaps there was truth to what Maribelle said; she needed confidence if she wanted to succeed.

"Why DO you dance, Olivia?" Maribelle asked, alerting Olivia of the silence that slipped in between the two yet again. This made her squeak slightly; no one usually asks that! Most are satisfied by simply seeing the performance she put on. This made her bite those lips again, letting seconds pass as she tried to word her answer. Results of all that thought came out in one simple sentence:

"It's...my dream."

The dancer was nervous. Many would think it a childish thought that should've perished as the years went by. It always made her nervous to express it, especially in such a simple way. Dreams were usually grand, hers was just the childhood hope had she carried through her surprising talents in dancing.

"On…a grand stage, with people's applause echoing t-throughout."

Olivia's cheeks grew redder each time a word was spoken, ending with her being a mass of red, pink and white curled into her seat. Thoughts of Maribelle's scorn filled her mind; perhaps it wouldn't be harsh, but the fact she would was terrifying! Why did she have to say it? Especially someone she considered a stranger.

"A girl like you needs a dream like this. Which is why we will start soon, darling." Out from the bag kept on a spare seat came a heavy book. What caught her eye wasn't the thickness but rather the title: _Attracting That You Desire._ In disbelief, Olivia blinked; hoping it was just a mistake on her part, she read the title again, again, and yet again. It never changed. "And please, call me just Maribelle, dear."

"W-what book is that?" She asked meekly as the pages were turned. Maribelle's attention was fixed on the pages. Each seemed to be filled with ants! If the writing was that small, how much was there to read? Seemingly quite a lot, but it was no big deal for the noblewoman. Her eyes scanned and her fingers turned page upon page like the surface stormy sea. And just when Olivia thought Maribelle could not amaze her more, when she stopped it seemed as if she hadn't overcome an ordeal.

"There." Olivia was then allowed to see the contents that intrigued the noblewoman so. As she read each sentence, it made her blush more and more. Was she supposed to say this? This was...this was impossible to say! Teeth biting hard against her lower lip, she looked up to Maribelle, unsure of how to even express her thoughts on the matter– or if she even should. "Seeing you have trouble speaking, I thought it'd be best to give you a little help. Using these, you'll be speaking to noblemen as if they were nothing."

"I c-can't say t-THIS!" Olivia burst, her anxiety taking hold entirely. It was just so odd! Was this how all born of high status spoke? Because Maribelle herself wasn't certainly speaking so! Perhaps this was a test? Trying to rationalize something she could barely grasp the weight and meaning of was the hardest task she'd ever undertaken, and that included the numerous troubles she had found herself in over the years.

"And you shall, tonight!" With an assertive tone of finality, Maribelle ended whatever queries the dancer might have had. "Trust me Olivia. I have the perfect person for you to approach as well!"

Those words were ominous. When anyone said that, Olivia never expected things to go well. But what caught her attention was when it would occur. "Tonight?" She queried. "But d-don't we move in an hour?"

"You cannot expect us to meet their army in a day. Tonight, when camp is set up I shall guide you there. But until then, you may keep the book." Smiling, Maribelle stood up. Even a simple action such as that was done with grace. Perhaps this was all a test? Besides, trying it once would hurt no one– hopefully. When Oliva's gaze left the table and concentrated on the sky touching the horizon over the stone boundary of the balcony they were in, the noon made itself known to her. Blazing overhead was the sun, below were the people of Ferox finishing everything up.

Just at that moment, a soldier entered. "Miladies. We depart soon; Sir Frederick is requesting both of you to be present at the Shepherd's carriages." His breath was harrowed and his face covered in sweat. A bow later, he left with the clanking of his armor dimming.

"Very well. Olivia dear, I shall see you tonight then." A smirk and she left. Her steps were too quiet even with the boots she wore. Alone, Olivia sat down again. The book taunted her from the table, beside the two tea cups– now empty. Sighing, she took the heavy block of pages and stuffed it inside her bag. The trip to the carriages was a hard one; the book was cumbersome and she would dare not let anyone see even a whiff of it. Somehow, she managed to find a place with it gripped tight against her chest. Most assumed she was just being herself; her title as a new member certainly helped as few knew her too well.

The ride was uneventful. Tension made itself home along their journey. Many were gossiping as usual, but there was something off; their words were little but provided encouragement and repressment to their own fears. Tomorrow's battle would determine the fate of the entire continent, and the world. Countless lives and the futures of those little and those to come were on the line. It would be impossible to not feel at least some form of apprehension. Once the convoy reached a suitable plain before night fully arose, the group was allowed to alight and stretch their legs.

In an hour, tents covered the greens and sources of light were being set up throughout. Olivia found herself in a corner. She had yet to approach almost anyone, so she'd dare not dance and there was not much her frail self could do either. The best she was able to do was not get in the way. Being shy, hiding had become something of a second talent for the dancer. Concerned about her worries, she hadn't thought of the book still stuck to her chest. It parted, showing off its title, in all its gaudy glory. Again she thought, did people really read this?

This time, it was her flipping through each page. Each line made her curl further in a mixture of embarrassment and anxiety. Instead, she focused on the countless books she had read before. Romance was her love; she drowned herself in all sorts of stories. And then, she reached the page Maribelle pointed out before. And just like that, her lips mimicked the words written.

Before long, it was nightfall. Olivia was already cozy in her tent, away from the prying eyes of almost everyone. But, she wasn't completely without worries; in their short meeting, the two understood each others' characters completely and Maribelle would certainly show her face. Beside her lay the book the noblewoman lent her, mostly read in the hours she had. Her head spun with the seemingly countless lines that she had read.

Her thoughts wouldn't be let to stir for long as Maribelle made her presence known with a sharp clearing of her throat. "Good evening, darling." She spoke as calm as always with her palms wound against her parasol. "Are you ready?"

A nod in response, Olivia sat up and walked to the entrance. One hand gripped Olivia's and the two were off. The camp's layout was unknown to almost everyone but a select few in it; the whole day was hectic and this was temporary at best. It would be short and brutal, whatever the outcome.

"...And we're here!" Maribelle excitedly said, mostly to catch Olivia's attention. As the dancer looked up, her eyes widened at the large sign of the exalt painted on the tent's walls. A short strand of pink fell down as her gaze moved upwards.

"Are you crazy?" She yelped, curling up yet again. "You s-said that it would be a n-noble! Not the prince of Ylisse!"

"If you can talk with a prince, then anyone would be easier, don't you think?" Maribelle's response was ready instantly. She had certainly thought this quite thoroughly!

"B-but he's the prince! I...I can't talk to him like t-that!"

"Yes, you can." The noblewoman retorted as a palm pushed her towards the tent. When Olivia looked back, Maribelle was gone. Her feet planted inside, there was no going back now. Gulping, the timid girl moved inside with careful steps; each was slow, as if hoping time would pass by the time Chrom had her attention. But before long, their eyes met yet again.

Beside him was Frederick, still speaking without a care in the world. But to them, everything seemed muted; the prince's hands were raised, causing the loyal knight to stop. Chrom turned to Frederick for one tiny moment in which she heard his voice again. "Alright Frederick. We can discuss it with Basilio and Flavia later." His voice was...so calm. She'd never seen this side of Chrom before. Every time the two met, they were both messes.

As Frederick left, he gave one look at Olivia. It was a flash; she couldn't even infer the expression on his face. The tent was empty apart from them once Frederick left. It was the riverside yet again, except the roles were reversed. Lips bit, body curled, Olivia was lost. Chrom stood up, his eyes trained on her.

"Prince Chrom..."

* * *

**A.N: **Oof. It's been a while huh? Life hit hard and fast. I had a personal project, classes, and just other little things that kept adding up. Sorry for the delay! Anyhoo, I did notice in my previous two chapters how Olivia was a bit _too _stuttery. I amended my mistake here.

Now as for why this chapter is labelled 2.5...well outside of being fancy and unique(lol) the half is, in my opinion, a good way to show how the two are connected. This DOES further the plot however(to an extent) but is mainly to build Olivia up as a character and put the focus on her! Hopefully it was a fun read. Toodles!


	4. Chapter 3

_**Chapter 3**_

"R-raise your legs wide so m-mommy can see the goods!"

Chrom almost let out another snicker right then and there. The fresh breeze helped him calm down, though not in time for Olivia to notice. She crumpled up even more on the grass.

When she said it in his tent, his mouth was ajar. The soldiers present blindly stared, completely stunned and rushing to find the appropriate response; it was Frederick who almost lost a few veins thanks to her, quite uncouth, words. Chrom's next response was to burst out in laughter, and once that was done – guide her outside before Frederick had the chance to grill out another lecture. Darkness had grown thick, and they all had to wake up early the next day for them to stay awake listening to etiquette.

With his eyes trailing them, the prince and dancer made their way out of the camp. The light from the camp torches dimmed, giving away to darkness. As their eyes adjusted, it faded to a dark gray- only until the moon showered its light over them did colors spring up again. Olivia's pink trails were barely visible, but he couldn't look at them this time– the prince's eyes were engaged on the blue lake in front of them.

His eyes were clouded by an azure haze; the water glowed with a shine he could barely describe with words. Ylisse was tucked quite deeply in the mainlands, it coupled with his rather sheltered upbringing let him rarely see such a sight. But Chrom could only be enamored for so long: soon enough he noticed his companion hadn't spoken throughout their journey. Turning to Olivia, his arms found her shoulders. Olivia's response was a startled jump– but it lasted for just a second; she didn't move.

"I don't know what made you say that, but...I understand you didn't mean it."

Chrom's eyes drifted away. From what he had gathered, Olivia wanted needed anything but attention now. What happened next was something no one could guess however; he soon felt a soft touch gripping his arm tight. The dancer nuzzled against his arms, desperate for any sort of comfort. The little show must've given her a fright. Unsure of what to do, his arms found themselves around her as well.

The crickets' chirping and splashes of fish jumping around were the only sounds. Quietly, the two sat there; the prince couldn't tell where their attentions were. Her eyes were focused on the water and the moonlight shining upon it; the surface broke every now and then with ripples from the fish swimming underneath. Chrom's were focused on her, taking in the delicate dancer.

Awkwardness followed.

"Do...you have dreams?"

Those words came from the pursed lips of Olivia, not Chrom. Shock made him jump away. However, the distance was soon made up and the two were close again. His answer was delayed– Chrom would simply look at the water as she did. Their roles reversed and now, Olivia was the one staring at the prince with a hesitant expectation.

What was his dream?

It seemed something so simple so long ago, but now his noble aspirations were muddied. When he was a child, he'd always dreamed of aiding his sister—being her shield and protecting her as she ruled. But now? It was gone. Chrom became silent. The cloth of his leggings were scrunched as he stared at the surface.

"Milord?"

A shrill squeak brought the prince back to reality; a drop of sweat ran down his face, and a drop of blood down his lips. He gasped, letting the bottom lip go free; Olivia immediately pounced on him– for the first time, he felt the warmth of her body. A shiver ran down his spine as the dancer tore off a part of her own clothes to help stop the bleeding.

If he could speak, would he object? Or would he let the silence stay to let her stay as well? Without thinking, his palms guided a bit of her hair away from obscuring her eyes. Their gazes met every now and again, but lasted less than that. Both the dancer and prince felt their hearts rebel against the cages of their bodies. But neither did anything more. It lasted for a little while, far shorter than Chrom ever wanted; Olivia pulled away, letting him see the bloody mess on her little makeshift cloth.

"I suppose it was to protect what I love most—my home and the people in it." The dancer finally received the answer to her question, though at the expense of Chrom's smile.

A deeper blush covered her cheeks when the prince turned to face her. "Mine...is to dance, o-on a stage in a big theater." Her voice answered after a little time to catch her breath.

Suddenly, Chrom burst out laughing. His little outburst caused the dancer to jump from the ground; but soon enough, he managed to calm down with lips curled to a smile. It was so childlike in the best possible way: innocent and pure. "That's wonderful." Finally, the weariness of his voice was let out when he spoke, with the tough facade of a leader finally being broken bit by bit. "I wish I had something so pure..."

Her heart beat fast as he spoke; but his words had a calming touch as it soon slowed down, and Olivia felt at ease once more. She was afraid of being thought of as immature in front of such an important person, but he...accepted it. Just like Maribelle. The pinkette was so confused at that! However, more importantly she found some comfort within his presence.

"W-well..." She spoke up as Chrom's gaze was affixed on her, "I think you st-still have it! Ylisse is still there...and so are the Shepherds."

It seemed as if whatever she managed to say was the right choice: after hearing her soft whisper for an answer, the prince's eyes softened. Another hearty laugh left him—it seemed whatever was bothering him had left. If she could, Olivia would have let out a sigh of relief but the mere thought of a wrong step stopped her from doing so. All she could do was simply give an embarrassed smile.

"I suppose you're right." Chrom answered with his finger on her cheeks. The thumb playfully caressed her blush. They stayed like this for a while, their eyes unable to move away. That finger moved as if time wasn't a concern—it seemed so lazy, yet so caring. Every now and again, her strands would fall, but he'd quickly push them back. Indeed, Olivia was foolish to believe there could be any hint of a romance between a lowly dancer like her and a prince but for just a moment…

Olivia's little fantasy seemed so believable.

When the sun shone in the dawn of the next day, the first noise made wasn't from the birds. Soldiers tramped all over the camp, gearing up for the inevitable battle. Orders were shouted from so many corners, all of it boomed loudly. Horses were lead in neat formation, as cavaliers mounted their companions for, in some cases, the final time. But when Olivia and Chrom walked back into camp, no one paid any attention to the two and neither did they. The pair was worlds apart from everything else.

Though, things only seemed to last for a short while until Chrom saw a Feroxi soldier trip on a rock. Immediately he broke from Olivia's side to his aid. In a flash, the soldier was in Chrom's arms and the swords he was busy carrying fell all over. Someone seemed to scold the fighter and in that little moment, the prince managed to steal a look at Olivia.

She could see clearly the want in his face, but there was little to be done. As much as they wanted to indulge in their fantasy, escapism eventually breaks. A nod gave his intentions away as the prince left. His cape flowed, and so did his hair. Olivia stared at him till the crowd engulfed him. Immediately she fell down, gasping for breath. As much as he loved being beside him, it was still a toll on her.

Hours passed as the soldiers prepared bit by bit. It was pure chaos—but they were happy, knowing their cause was just. Time wasn't their friend of course, each second they waited meant the Mad King's army drew closer. In the mess, Chrom's tent was an epicenter of stomping boots. Amidst all of that, the prince stared at a silver ring in his palm. The insignia of the royal family was intricately carved onto its body. As he did so, all of his doubts faded. He knew exactly how felt and what he needed to do. His fingers guided it between a chain, and soon that was wrapped around his neck.

The day passed swift and whilst the morning sun shone bright, the combined Ylissean and Feroxi army left. Those that remained watched on as the fighters disappeared into the horizon.

Author's Note: Eyyyyyyyyyyy I'm alive! Sorry for the delay. I had quite a bit of pressure from both university and work- which both included quite a bit of writing. Alongside my creativity being quite burnt up. The biggest challenge was indeed the first line. And the general flow of the story to not be quite edgy!


	5. Chapter 4

_**Chapter 4**_

Steadily increasing gallops broke the tense silence of the night before. Everyone stirred from their tents after a sleepless night; anxiousness filled the air as the commander in charge approached the messenger. From a distance, he looked exhausted—no one could get a good read of what he was thinking. A moment later, loud cheers erupted from the joint Feroxi-Ylissean camp, making even the very earth below them tremble.

Miles away, Chrom looked below at the corpse under his feet. The adrenaline from the battle had passed and now, feeling returned to his body. Heavy breaths marked his exhaustion, and he would bend down soon after whilst leaning on the Falchion for support. A trail of blood trickled down his arms. He'd done it— Gangrel was dead. Not a single breath left his body. It felt…

Good.

"Chrom!" a familiar voice brought the prince into reality again. It was hard to turn his body, but somehow he managed to at least catch a glimpse of Robin in the distance. His figure approached him fast—he was running as fast as he could with his hands waving in the air. The realization set in: Robin's presence was no longer alienating; instead of avoiding him on instinct, the prince felt at peace seeing his face.

It didn't take long for Robin to be beside him with his ever worrying mindset. A snicker left Chrom as he knew exactly what Robin was going to say. But letting him to do so, Chrom interrupted. "I'm fine. He just managed to stab my arm—nothing to worry yourself over." It was a lie: his arm was aching at the searing pain. Gangrel's sword was no ordinary one; even now its blade crackled every now and again with raw lightning magic.

"You can leave the lying to those fit for it, Chrom." Robin snickered with a heave, helping his friend up. "Come now…we've won. There's nothing more to do but tend your wounds. Besides," the tactician's smirk seemed to grow quite a bit after that. "There's someone waiting for you back at camp."

The journey back was quiet. Nothing eventful happened, but Chrom finally took in how vile the battle was. Fallen bodies of both comrades and foes were littered all over. Magic had burnt grass and soil alike, leaving nothing but black ash in its wake. Some areas were burning with smoke covering the sky all over. Robin let out a cough as the pair passed by a small flaming wheel.

"Now, we just have to look forward to building Ylisse…" Chrom noticed the trail of silence that followed. Was something bothering him? He'd have to ask once everything settled down.

A soldier garbed in Ylissean colors approached them before the prince could collect his thoughts, however. "Commander! We've routed the rest of the Plegian army and those remaining have laid down their arms."

Chrom pulled away from Robin at the guest. Even if his body was in pain, he had to remain strong—at least for his people if no one else. "Make sure the prisoners are well fed. Once the negotiations with Plegia are complete, release them at once." A salute followed and the nameless warrior ran off to spread his words.

"Putting on the tough act, are we? It's good to let loose, you know?" Teased Robin once he felt their uninvited guest was out of earshot. Rather than answer, Chrom just shrugged it off and concentrated on walking. The journey seemed so long—longer than the trip here. Impatience was obvious within his steps.

A gentle breeze brushed Olivia awake from her trip inside her imagination. Unbeknownst to her during her little daydream, her hands had been gripping the handle of her sword. Even if it was just a light sword meant for self defense, nothing heavy, her fingers tightened so much, there were marks on her skin. But her rest was short lived—a roar shook her attention to it.

"They're approaching!" A warrior was shouting just a bit away from her. Rather than fear or command, it was from joy. More people stampeded across the grounds right in front of her—unwillingly, her body curled up simply at the sight of all the bodies moving so violently. A little yelp even slipped out between her lips.

Even though silence followed once they left, Olivia managed to walk to her tent with her trembling legs. She knew the battle was over and she knew Chrom had returned safely from the happy crowd, but she couldn't shake off the fear in her heart. It was odd of her to feel this way; yes, she felt fear before, but this was different. As if her very core was shaking with anxiety.

Time passed slowly, or perhaps quickly. The timid pinkette had no idea—she simply sat there. And that was a good choice to make; her ears picked up the stamping and shouting outside. It was nice to simply not to be sought out so much. At least, until a hand shifted the entrance aside, letting light enter the previously dark little cave Olivia had been staying in. In an immediate reaction, she shouted and pointed her sword pointed at the intruder.

"I know I look as if a thousand horses ran me over, but I didn't think I'd look terrifying…" Chrom teased in return. Falchion was dropped beside him, landing with a gentle clank of metal against wood.

"O-oh, Prince Chrom. Y-you've returned!" the dancer squeaked. Her fingers immediately curled together and moved to hide as much of herself as possible. Chrom, meanwhile, approached her. The hesitance he had before was completely gone—Olivia didn't know why. All she did know was how close he was, again.

"When I was fighting Gangrel, at first I was thinking of my sister. It was for revenge," a short laugh broke the somber tone Chrom had taken. "But then, it changed. I didn't want to fight for that—I wanted to fight…for you."

Olivia jumped back hearing those words. What did he say? She had to have misheard! There really was no way he would say that…would he? Chrom's hand slipped into his coat—she noticed he was using his off hand. Was his sword arm injured? Once again, her thoughts were interrupted when the palm emerged from the dark blue coat.

It was a blue box, small enough to hold a ring. "You c-can't ha—"

The box was opened to reveal an ornate silver ring. Just from the haphazard glance, she knew how intricately crafted it was. And on the top was nothing less than the emblem of House Ylisse. "I can't help myself from looking at you. You have an aura that attracts people, especially with your dances. Your charisma is beyond mind—Ylisse needs no other queen beyond you. I know we've not met for long but," Chrom paused to breathe in, clearly he was scared and so was she, "Olivia, will you take my hand?"

He did feel the same way. Olivia's heart almost burst out with joy, now beating so fast she was afraid he could hear it. Her hands shook wildly; she was frozen in place with a stare at the ring. However, it rose to meet his gaze. She was so afraid of what she was going to say. He was handsome, royalty, talented and more importantly…he seemed to care. Her mind must've been mad to fall in love with him so fast, but her heart couldn't lie.

"Oh Chrom…I-I'm none of what you said. B-but I can't lie, I am in love with you. M-maybe more than I should be. We've only met for a few days, bu-but I feel the same way."

Speaking those words was difficult, very difficult. Olivia's heart finally reached its peak—she felt faint. The dancer felt his hands move closer and then the cold interior of the ring slowly engulf her finger. However, she slipped her hands back in an instant. She wasn't done speaking.

"B-but I can't t-take your hand…"

* * *

**Author's Note 20th January 2020:** OOF REMEMBER WHEN I ACTUALLY WROTE THOUGH? Heyyyyyyyy, yeah I was busy engrossed in playing Radiant Dawn. I've basically played all the FE games up to Fates! Finishing them on the other hand...lol. Radiant Dawn was a fun time-I can't believe I didn't play this until now! Although the enemy phases are hilariously wrong; they really make me appreciate the latter games a ton. Hopefully my ramblings aren't too distracting from the story- my personal belief is that I should be friendly with my readers. I really am thankful to you guys for taking the time to read my stupid shipping fluff lmao. Ciao!


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